In His Footsteps Part 3 The Mirror's Edge

The cabin sat in silence, the air heavy with a sense of finality. Justine remained seated, staring into the charred remains of the fire, as though it could offer answers. But the embers had long since gone cold.

The cycle had taught her one thing- the truth didn’t come easy, and it came with a price. Yet, as much as the stranger’s cryptic warnings haunted her, she refused to let despair win. Adrian was out there — he had to be. And she would find him, no matter how many times she had to fall.

As if in response to her determination, a sound broke the silence — a faint rustle outside, almost imperceptible. Justine stood, muscles tensing, and moved to the window. Snow still blanketed the clearing, untouched except for a single set of footprints leading to the door.

Her breath caught.

The prints weren’t hers.

The Letter

The knock came before she could fully process what she’d seen. It wasn’t the deliberate knock of the stranger, nor was it the hurried rap of someone seeking shelter. It was slow, almost hesitant, as if whoever stood on the other side of the door wasn’t sure they wanted to be there.

Justine hesitated. Her hand hovered over the doorknob, her heart racing. Finally, she pulled the door open.

No one was there.

Instead, a package sat at her feet — a small wooden box, its surface etched with intricate carvings of unfamiliar symbols. Justine bent to pick it up, the weight of the box heavier than it looked. A faint warmth radiated from its surface, even in the biting cold.

She closed the door and placed the box on the table. It had no lock, no hinge, but when she touched it, the lid shifted slightly, revealing a folded piece of parchment inside.

With trembling hands, she unfolded the paper. The handwriting was sharp, precise, and entirely unfamiliar.

Justine,

There are truths you are not yet ready to face. But this box holds the key to understanding. Use it wisely.

One warning- once you open the door, you cannot close it again.

Adrian was not who you thought he was. And neither are you.

— A Friend

The words sank into her mind, a flood of confusion and dread. She stared at the box, her fingers hovering over its edge. The symbols seemed to shimmer in the dim light, shifting as though alive.

“I’m not ready for this,” she whispered, but even as she said it, she knew she wouldn’t walk away.

With a deep breath, she opened the box.

Inside was a single object — a compass, its needle spinning wildly, defying the laws of physics. The face of the compass was etched with the same symbols as the box, and beneath the glass was another note, much shorter than the first.

Follow the needle. It points to the truth.

The Journey

The compass led Justine out of the clearing and into the forest, its needle never wavering. The journey felt both timeless and urgent; the sun never rose, and the moon never set, leaving her trapped in perpetual twilight. Snow crunched beneath her boots, her breath forming clouds in the icy air.

As the hours — or was it days? — wore on, the forest began to change. The trees grew taller, their branches twisting into unnatural shapes. Shadows flickered at the edges of her vision, and the air grew heavier, charged with an electric tension.

Finally, she emerged into a vast expanse of snow-covered ground. In the distance, a structure loomed — a towering black obelisk that seemed to drink in the light around it. The compass’s needle pointed directly at it.

The moment she stepped toward the obelisk, the stranger’s voice echoed in her mind.

“You’re not asking the right questions.”

The Truth

The obelisk’s surface was smooth and cold, and when Justine pressed her palm against it, it hummed with a low, resonant vibration. A seam appeared down the middle, and the structure split open, revealing a swirling void of light and shadow.

Before she could hesitate, the compass’s needle spun faster, pulling her forward. She stepped into the void.

The world twisted around her, a kaleidoscope of memories — her childhood in Evergreen, Adrian’s postcards, the stranger’s piercing green eyes. But beneath these familiar images were others — faces she didn’t recognize, places she’d never been. And then, a voice, soft but insistent, called her name.

She turned toward the sound and saw Adrian. He stood at the edge of a cliff, the void stretching infinitely behind him. His face was older, his expression weary.

“Justine,” he said, his voice breaking. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I had to,” she replied, tears streaming down her face. “I couldn’t let you stay lost.”

Adrian shook his head. “I’m not the one who’s lost. You are.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been trying to bring you home.”

Adrian’s expression softened, and he stepped closer. “This isn’t about me, Justine. It’s about you. The truth you’ve been running from.”

“What truth?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Adrian reached out and touched her forehead, and the world dissolved around her.

The Revelation

When she woke, she was back in Evergreen. But it wasn’t the Evergreen she remembered. The streets were empty, the houses abandoned, their windows shattered. The air felt heavy, oppressive.

She wandered the town, searching for any sign of life. Finally, she reached her childhood home. The porch light was on, flickering weakly.

Inside the box lay a mirror, its surface cracked, with veins of silver splitting the glass into jagged fragments. Justine’s breath caught as she lifted it, her hands trembling. The reflection wasn’t immediate; the mirror’s surface shimmered, as though it were a pool disturbed by an unseen breeze.

She leaned closer, and the fractured pieces began to show glimpses of her past — scenes she recognized but couldn’t fully place.

A younger version of herself, standing in the forest, holding Adrian’s hand.

A cabin engulfed in flames, shadows dancing wildly in the smoke.

The stranger with piercing green eyes, handing her the compass.

Her reflection shifted — her face aged and worn, her eyes hollow.

The fragments began to move, rearranging themselves into a coherent image. But instead of her face, Adrian’s appeared. His expression was pained, his lips moving silently. Justine staggered back, but the mirror held her gaze, pulling her in.

The reflections began to swirl, each shard a memory forcing itself into her mind. She saw Adrian again, not as she remembered him, but older, distant, standing at the edge of the cliff. His voice echoed faintly, layered with her own-

"It’s not about finding me. It’s about remembering who you are.”

The mirror’s surface turned black, and for a moment, she saw nothing but her own silhouette. Then the shards reassembled, reflecting her as she was now — except something was wrong. Her eyes weren’t her own anymore; they were Adrian’s.

The memories flooded her, unrelenting. She saw herself through his eyes — the arguments, the moments of despair, the day she handed him the compass and walked away. The truth unraveled like thread from a spool- Adrian had never left. She had abandoned him, consumed by her own fear, running from the person she had become.

The mirror’s surface cracked further, splitting her reflection into a thousand fractured versions of herself. She reached out to touch it, and as her fingers met the glass, it shattered into dust, scattering in the cold air; and then Justine was back in the forest, the obelisk towering behind her. The compass was gone, but the path ahead was clear.

She didn’t need to find Adrian anymore.

She needed to find herself.

With a deep breath, she turned away from the obelisk and began the long walk back to Evergreen, her steps steady and sure.